


You Make Me Feel

by neapeaikea



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Bonding, M/M, Porn, Porn With Plot, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 09:50:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18588796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neapeaikea/pseuds/neapeaikea
Summary: Following the events of season two, Pike and Tyler have a open and honest conversation, which takes an unexpected but very welcome turn.





	You Make Me Feel

**Author's Note:**

> I mainlined season 2 of _Star Trek: Discovery_ and knew a few eps in I had to porn these two because hngh hothothot. Hopefully, the conversation before the porn reads as something plausible between them, if only they'd let their walls down. Really liked exploring some insecurities in Pike too. Enjoy! Feedback is lovingly drooled on!

The chime on the door distracts Chris from the report he’s reading, a rather tedious update about recent changes to Starfleet command assignments. 

“Enter.” His eyebrows raise slightly as Tyler walks in, stopping short right inside the door. “Specialist.”

“Captain,” Tyler nods in that neurotic way of his, a sharp up and down motion, “I wanted to thank you for agreeing to transport me to Starbase 6.”

Chris senses there’s so much more behind those words, and those eyes, so he goes with his instincts, “I hope it will be less eventful than our previous trip together. Join me for a drink?” He stands up, showing with a small gesture that he’s heading for the replicator.

“I’d be honored to, sir.” Tyler says, the tightness he carries himself with loosening a little as he steps further inside the cabin.

“I think you’re higher above me in the chain of command now.” Chris says, a chuckle escaping him.He turns to the replicator and mumbles, “Whiskey, neat, two glasses.”

“With all due respect, I always was.” Tyler states, but the glint in his eyes isn’t confrontational this time, though it doesn’t quite make it to joking.

“One of the many things we’ll never agree upon.” Chris hands Tyler one of the newly materialized glasses and motions towards the sitting group to their left. He’s not surprised that Tyler heads for a stuffed chair, and to be able to sit across from him, Chris takes the small sofa. As they sit down, Chris notices that while Tyler is as close to relaxed as he’s ever seen him, he’s still holding himself straight, sitting on the very edge of the chair cushion. 

Chris has never been one to beat around the bush. “You know, most of the things I disagreed with you on during our hunt for the Red Angel was protocol and what I believed was the best way of getting things done. I never thought you didn’t want us to find it, or solve the problem with Control.”

Tyler almost seems uncomfortable by Chris broaching the subject, shifting in his seat. “I’d like to think we found a way to work together. That I helped somehow.”

“You did. I’m certainly more positively inclined to you being in charge of Section 31 than Leland, or Georgiou.” Chris puts his glass up in a toast, and doesn’t bring the glass to his lips before Tyler relents and silently toasts him back. 

“I’m not entirely sure Starfleet will be pleased with my work, but it’s something to do, I suppose. This way I don’t have to worry about only Klingons being after my head, but everyone else too.”

“If I hear you’re assassinated, I promise I’ll look into it.” Chris can’t help but feel victorious as Tyler finally smiles for a second, something bright and intense spreading like wildfire before it’s extinguished. “Can’t promise I’ll risk my entire crew, but I’ll look into it.”

“That means a lot, captain.” Tyler actually grins, toasting him again before taking a sip of whiskey. “You don’t have any Klingon drinks in that replicator?”

Chris gestures towards the replicator, “I can’t speak Klingon, so it replicates the wrong thing, I’m afraid. And it’s Chris. Or Pike if you prefer.” Tyler’s eyes meets his for more than the normal two seconds. Chris waves to where his uniform jacket is lying forgotten on the desk, “We’re both off duty.”

Tyler hesitates, mouth opening a few times before quietly saying. “Ash.”

Chris grins like he did whenever Tilly inevitably went off on an embarrassing tangent. He feels that happy at getting the man in front of him to take down such a small part of his walls. They drink quietly for a moment, lost in their thoughts. Ash finally eases back in the chair, unwinding even more. But he keeps fidgeting, eyes bouncing around the room. He’s never been in here before, never had reason to. It’s like he’s cataloguing it, taking notes for future reference. It bugs Chris a little, he invited Ash into his private quarters, not his office. Is Ash filing away intel for his Section 31 records? Will he use the pile of PADD’s against Chris in some future plot, or play on his love of sea vessels, proudly on display through several paintings?

The replicator beeps, like it usually does five or so minutes after it’s been used. Chris would mention it to engineering if it truly bothered him. Chris doesn’t react, but Ash does, and it’s his strained reaction that turn Chris’ thoughts onto a different path altogether. Ash was mentally and physically tortured for a long time. He chose to go to Qo’noS only to be rejected and ridiculed by all Klingons but one.He’s not mapping out Chris’ quarters for future blackmail purposes. He’s doing it because he’s lived with a real threat of death for so long, that it’s become vital to be aware of his surroundings. He's probably not even conscious of it. Chris’ heart breaks a little for him, for whomever Ash was before the war, before being used as meat puppet. And it breaks for him now, for the man who was trying to heal himself but had his only friend, his love, ripped away from him.

“You know, we’ll all miss them. The Discovery and her crew. Some more than others.” Chris knows he’s hit a nerve when Ash takes a large gulp of whiskey. “But it’s not over. It’s still going on. Life, chaos, plots, exploration. It’s all still there.”

“I think you’ll be dealing with the life and exploration, and I’ll get the chaos and plots.” Ash puts his glass down, reaching for the zipper on his jacket. He’s wearing the black of Section 31 again, and once the jacket is removed it reveals a plain black undershirt. 

“I think we’ll have our fair share of both.” Chris can’t help but zone in on Ash’s sculpted shoulders, the scar below one bicep. He’s never really looked at Ash before, never had the time or opportunity. When Chris is Captain Pike up on that bridge or on a mission, nothing that isn’t pertinent to the assignment is irrelevant. But here in his own quarters, he can unwind and think slower, let his eyes rest wherever he wants. 

“Hopefully.” Ash says, running a hand through his hair as he settles back in the chair. “Hopefully, you and I can remain… friendly in our future endeavors.” 

Chris grins then, happiness coming easily at the suggestion. “Friends. I’d like that.”

Ash meets his eyes again, “I’m afraid I might be a bit rusty in the friend department. Most of the people I called friends resent me. The only person who came close to understanding me is about a millennia into the future.”

“Well. Maybe you’ll find someone else who understands you.” Chris can’t believe how fragile and desperate Ash looks in that moment, practically lapping up the gentle words Chris is offering. “I think maybe you should start with understanding yourself.”

Ash laughs then, “Truer words, captain, I mean, Chris.”

Chris brings them to safer territory by making a crack about him understanding himself less after his sojourn on the Discovery, and then regales Ash with a few stories of the worlds he explored while the rest of Starfleet was at war. Ash seems to like it, hearing about new pollens, new minerals, making first contact with species with three eyes or five hands. Chris realizes he’s not had the chance to tell anyone about it outside of his reports to Starfleet command, as he was thrust onto the bridge of the Discovery without any shore leave. 

Shore leave is when he usually finds a bar, finds someone willing to listen and adds little details to make the stories more fun than they truthfully are. He also usually finds someone willing to spend a night or two with him, someone not connected to Starfleet in any way. He glances at Ash. He’s not officially affiliated with Starfleet, since Section 31 is pretty hush-hush. 

As his eyes once again take in the firm body of his companion, the wiry frame hiding surprising strength, he notices that Ash’s glass is empty in his hands. 

“You mentioned Klingon alcohol?” Chris ventures. He shouldn’t offer more time to this man, shouldn’t let his mind go where it wants. But they’ve shared a pretty extraordinary experience together, and they might not understand themselves fully, but they understand that part of each other.

Ash gets up with unexpected speed, walking over to the replicator and gurgles something that sounds like vomiting and laughing at the same time. Nevertheless, two large goblets of something red appears and Ash comes over, offering one of the goblets to Chris. “Bloodwine. It’s good.”

Chris doubts that very much, but still accepts the goblet, and angles his body to meet Ash’s as the other man sits down on the sofa next to him instead of the chair opposite. He notices Ash noticing the shift but doesn’t mention it. He hides his smirk behind the goblet, smelling the drink before trying it. It’s foul for a second, but he tries to swallow it down without too much embarrassment.

Ash snickers, “Your face.”

“I’ll have you know women and men have loved this face for decades.” Chris snarks back. 

“Is that an admission of old age?”

Chris rolls his eyes, “It’s but a humble acknowledgement of the many suitors that have crossed my path.” Yet again, Ash’s eyes seem stuck on Chris’ body for a second too long. A thrill runs through Chris. He really shouldn’t do this. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s been intimate with a fellow Starfleet officer, but he _is_ older now, and should know better. It’s a terrible idea, sleeping with the commander of Section 31. Ash is hot as hell, now that Chris has finally _looked_ at him, and Chris would be lucky to have him if only for a few hours. But Ash has been broken before, been used and abused. He’s still in love with someone else. Chris prides himself on his decision making skills, and clearly he has begun contemplating the wrong decision. 

Ash lowers his voice, head tilted back as he starts to talk, “I’d like to have someone to trust again. As much as I can, with this whole covert ops thing. I don’t know if this command was something they actually wanted, or something they had to do. I’m sure they want to take advantage of my Klingon side. ‘Cept for how if I ever show myself on Qo’noS again, I’ll be murdered and L’Rell too, probably starting another Klingon civil war. I’m sure parts of the Federation would love that.”

“True.” Chris admits.

“But I do enjoy using some of the more… morally ambiguous elements I’ve learnt in the past.”

“As long as you don’t go overboard.”

Ash grins at him, lifting an eyebrow, “Please. Have a little faith.”

“Just don’t tell me about it.” Chris offers.

“Oh I won’t.” Ash taps his nose, “Top secret. We don’t exist. I don’t exist.” He sighs, “I don’t know if I exist. At least this way, I get to fly around the galaxy while having an existential crisis, taking it all out on scheming assholes.”

“See? A better life already.” Chris deadpans, helping himself to more bloodwine. It still doesn’t taste that great.

“A better life indeed.” Ash drinks too. “I just… It’s just that I wish I could feel something again. You know? Feel something and know that it’s real.”

Chris does know that feeling. Sometimes he wakes up and he’s certain he’s still in the cell on Talos IV, that his entire life since then has been an illusion. Seeing Vina again only made those moments return stronger than ever. He shifts again, closer now, folding one leg up on the sofa, “Were you ever briefed about Talos IV?”

“Psychologically evolved species, able to uphold illusions for several lightyears.” Ash says, tongue coming out to wet his lips. 

Chris’ eyes are stuck on Ash’s lips even as his tongue is back inside. “Years ago they,” he clears his throat, “convinced me I was imprisoned with a beautiful girl, someone who needed help. I fell in love with her, I guess. But she was an illusion. I mean, she was real, but she didn’t look the way she looked to me.”

Ash is quiet, eyes fixed on Chris.

“She showed herself to me again, when we were there with Discovery. She looked just as she did then. And it made me think again, ‘what if this is just an illusion?’, ‘what if I’m still a prisoner?’, ‘what if nothing in my life is real?’.

Ash doesn’t say anything, and neither does Chris. It’s a bombshell. Ash can rat him out to the psychiatrists at Starfleet, and he won’t have his captain’s rank anymore. What Ash does is put their goblets away, and reach for Chris’ hand. 

“Does that feel real to you?” Ash asks. 

“Yes.” Chris says hoarsely, “But so did touching her.”

Ash shifts closer, their knees knocking. He puts his other hand over Chris’ heart, “You’re real, Chris. I’m real.”

Chris wasn’t prepared for this, for this confession and the storm that’s brewing inside of him. He’s never suppressed his emotions much, but there is upheaval inside of him right now and he doesn’t know what to do.

“Chris,” Ash says, moving his hand from Chris’ heart to his jaw, “Chris, look at me. I’m here. I’m not an illusion. None of this is an illusion.”

“No.” Chris barely whispers, staring at the other man. “No, I don’t think it is. When I reason with myself about it, I always conclude that Vina wouldn’t do that to me. But… What if she would?”

Ash’s eyes fill with unshed tears, but he doesn’t look away. “I know what it feels like. To want to know that you are the one in control of your own body and mind.”

Chris gently takes Ash’s hand in his, stares down at their fingers resting against each other. He glances up at Ash, bites his lip.

Ash sighs, moving closer, “I just want to feel again.” 

They meet halfway, a simple but perfect kiss, one that light fires inside Chris hot enough to put out the dark storm that had been gathering. Ash is warm against him, beard chafing lightly. Chris smiles into the kiss, thinking ‘ _I feel that_ ’ to himself. Ash slips his tongue inside and it makes Chris want him nearer, to feel more of him. He paws at Ash’s sides, guides him closer. They sit awkwardly on the couch, making out and feeling each other up. Ash likes to suck on Chris’ lips and tug on his hair, and Chris lets him. In return he gently angles Ash’s head to make the kiss dirtier, and runs his hands underneath Ash’s undershirt, feeling the muscled skin.

Drawing back, Ash mumbles against Chris’ lips, “You good?”

“Yeah. You?” Chris gets his reply when Ash takes his undershirt off, puts his toned chest on display. “Fuck.”

Ash snickers, “If you’re lucky.”

Chris smiles widely, overjoyed at the comfortable glint in Ash’s eyes. He takes his own fleet-issued shirt off and reaches for Ash again. He comes willingly, smiling into Chris’ mouth. When Chris tugs on his thick hair, Ash moans and moves to lick on Chris’ neck. Chris keeps his hand on the back of Ash’s head, fingers entangled in the strands of dark hair. It’s softer than he assumed, an almost silk-like feeling against Chris’ calloused fingers. 

His cock is starting to take real notice, especially as Ash lets his hands trail around Chris’ lower abdomen. The rest of his skin is heating up too. He hasn’t been touched like this by a man in a long time, and he wants. He knows now, that if he had allowed himself to look, he would’ve noticed Ash’s firm butt in that uniform every time they were on the bridge together. He wants this man, wants to feel him in any way Ash will let him. 

Ash returns to Chris’ mouth, sucking on his lower lip again. Chris moans, shifting to alleviate some of the pressure building at his crotch. Ash pulls back, grinning wide. He’s ended up with a leg thrown over Chris’ lap and he can undoubtedly feel Chris’ hard-on. 

“You look good like this. Skin all flushed.” Ash murmurs, trailing fingers down Chris’ chest. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve had some influence on my appearance, don’t get cocky.” 

Ash raises an eyebrow, “Oh I intend to get some cock.”

Chris stills, pulls his head back. Ash cracks up after a few seconds, making Chris huff, shoving at the other man playfully, “Watch it, Tyler.”

Ash grabs Chris’ hand, pulls it down to his own crotch. Chris can feel how hard Ash is, a thick bulge pressing at Ash’s tight uniform pants. Chris presses a kiss to Ash’s neck before moving up to his ear, “My bed’s right over there.”

Standing up, Ash holds a hand out, “Join me.”

They pause for a brief moment at the side of the bed, undressing down to their underwear. Chris looks his fill, knowing this is probably the only chance he’ll get to see Ash like this. He’s gorgeous, dark skin with scars and imperfections, and Chris wants to touch it all. Wants to lick and kiss, feel it all underneath him. 

Ash looks back, not bothering to hide the desire he feels for Chris. It’s a heady feeling, knowing that another man wants Chris that much, wants to feel his touch on his body.

It’s Chris that makes the first move, settling down with his head on a pillow, one arm folded behind his head. Ash takes the hint, climbs in between Chris’ legs. At first he holds himself up on his arms, meeting Chris’ gaze. They don’t talk, don’t touch except for their lower bodies. Chris doesn’t know what Ash sees in his eyes, but he keeps them steady on the other man as he starts to rock his hips, bumping up against Ash’s crotch. Ash licks his lips, eyes ablaze with want. He reaches up, plays with a lock of Chris’ hair. Chris doesn’t get it at first, then remembers his reflection in the mirror and realizes Ash is paying attention to the shock of grey hair at his forehead. Chris finds it oddly endearing and he’s filled with affection for the other man. 

“Come here.” Chris says sweetly, pulling Ash down for a kiss. It’s simply nice at first, but Ash quickly moves it along to dirty and desperate, tongue fucking Chris’ mouth. In retaliation, Chris puts his hands on Ash’s ass, keeping him in place as he ruts against him. Ash’s moans and choked breathing can only mean he enjoys it. 

Chris somehow pushes Ash’s underwear away, feels his own cock harden more as he gets his hands on Ash’s firm ass, thinks of what he wants to do to it. Ash moves to Chris’ neck again, then his collarbone, takes a detour to his nipples but then suddenly he’s pulling down Chris’ briefs and kissing the revealed skin. Chris sits up, helps Ash get rid of their underwear, the two of them surprisingly comfortable with the awkwardness of getting naked with someone else. Chris knows he counts as attractive and still has a decent body, but it’s difficult for anyone to not get self-conscious in a situation like this. 

“You want me to turn down the lights?” Chris asks. 

“No, this is fine.” Ash says. For a second it looks like he’s going to add something, but he must change his mind, because he settles back, pushing lightly at Chris to make him sit up higher, back against the wall. 

The first touch of lips on his cock is heavenly. Ash’s lips were full and demanding against his mouth, on his cock they are much the same. Chris is certain that even if he were dead, Ash could make his dick hard with the way he sucks and kisses up and down the sides of it. His dick strains against Ash’s beard and lips, a curious sensation. When Ash finally swallows him down, Chris bites off a groan, and closes his eyes. Ash takes him almost all the way in, tongue heavy against him. He pulls off, breathes and laps hungrily at the head of the cock before taking him back inside.

They settle into a rhythm quickly, Ash bobbing his head up and down, Chris rocking his hips as little as he can. Sometimes Chris feels Ash’s beard against his sensitive skin and it sends sparks of desire down his spine. He has one hand in Ash’s hair, the other caressing his own chest, blunt fingernails tripping over chest hair. He’s getting louder as Ash works him closer to completion, moans and breaths slipping out heavily without permission. Ash moans too, whenever he slides off to take a breath. Chris at one point sees Ash reach down, tugging on his own cock. It makes him grin, doubling over to press a sloppy kiss to Ash’s red lips. 

“You like that?” Ash asks breathily.

“I do. Feels fucking great.” 

Ash grins at him, kisses him again before pushing him back. He pays attention to Chris’ balls next, sucking on them while stroking Chris’ cock lazily. It drives Chris mad, the slowed down speed, the burning building in his core. 

“Come on, Ash.” He pleads, and he’s not left waiting, Ash instantly putting his mouth back on his cock, returning to the easy rhythm they had earlier. This time though, Chris rocks his hips harder, fucking Ash’s mouth. Ash accommodates easily, angling his head and putting a hand at the base of Chris’ cock to help his aim. Chris swears under his breath, has to look away when Ash glances at him from underneath long lashes. He looks fucked out and happy, lips red and bruised around Chris’ dick.

“Get up, get up.” Chris pulls at Ash’s arms, leaning over for an open-mouthed kiss, jerking himself off as he tries to push past the edge. Ash seems to get it after a few moments, moves around so he’s straddling Chris, helping him stroke his cock, whispering filthy encouragement into the otherwise silent room. He mutters about Chris’ body, his cock, the way he looks all splayed out for him. Chris grunts, grabbing onto Ash’s hair hard which only makes Ash smirk at him. Chris smashes their mouths together, and finally, with Ash’s fingers on his cock, his orgasm hits, making him fall back on the mattress as he spills his load, coating their hands. He comes long and hard, a testament to how good Ash is at giving head, but also how long it’s been since Chris has had time to indulge. 

Ash follows him after a moment, lying down half on top of him, “That was hot.”

“Felt it too.” Chris says, still riding the high. He feels a kiss on his shoulder. He opens one eye, sees Ash look at him full of lust. Chris has always been a giving lover according to himself, so he spreads his legs, nudges at Ash’s knee. If there’s anything new he’s learned about Ash from this, it’s that he’s great at taking hints, and he’s not surprised that Ash has a leg slung over his in seconds, his hard dick throbbing against Chris’ thigh. “That feel good to you?”

“Fuck, you don’t even know…” Ash keeps fucking Chris’ thigh, smearing precum all over his skin. “Wanna fuck you up.”

“You have no idea how much I want you to.” Chris hasn’t spent hours in bed with a partner for years now, but still remembers a time his hair would need product to stay in place and his body would be sore for days. 

Ash bites at Chris’ shoulder, speeds up his thrusts. Chris turns around, putting his defined back on display, and the moment Ash covers him with his body, Chris reaches for his hand. Ash fucks the small of his back, and Chris bucks back against him while staring at the way their fingers intertwine on the mattress. It’s sweaty and hot, both of them sticky from the bodily fluids on their skin. The way Ash moves and ruts against him makes Chris wish he was young enough to get hard again, but instead he helps Ash along by rocking with him, shifting his hips to line up better with Ash’s dick. Ash comes quietly, his only tell the forward slump of his body milliseconds before his cum lands on Chris’ back.

Chris waits until he’s pretty sure Ash is done coming, then turns back around. Ash looks completely and utterly relaxed for once, no tightness around his eyes, his shoulders slumped forward. Chris knows he’ll feel dubious about the method later, but he’s happy to have helped the other man finally unwind. He meets Ash’s gaze, smiles softly at him. Ash smiles back. 

It’s about an hour later that Ash gets dressed. Chris watches him from the bed, having pulled on the shorts and undershirt he uses as sleepwear. Ash zips up his black uniform jacket. Chris wants to rip it off immediately. He must give it away with his displeased huff, because Ash looks over. 

“I like the black, to be honest. It’s cool.” Ash explains. 

“If you say so.” 

Ash comes over, leans down for a gentle kiss. His beard scratches Chris’ skin, and there might very well be a slight beard-burn when Chris reports for duty tomorrow. “Thank you, Chris. I mean it. Not just this,” he motions to the bed, “but for… listening. Talking. _Trying_.”

“You made me feel.” Chris says hoarsely. “Feel like this is real. I doubt the Talosians have the imagination to think up what we just did.” Chris gets up, because he is a gentleman, and as such he will walk Ash to the door. 

“Starbase 6 is ten days away at current velocity.” Ash points out. 

Chris touches the wall sensor to unlock and open the door. “So it is.”

The hallway outside is quiet and dark, artificial night reigning on the Enterprise. Ash hesitates, some of the tension returning to his body, a strain over his face already. Chris doesn’t like it. 

“You know where to find me, Specialist, should you want to… _feel_ again.”

Ash nods, eyes trailing over Chris’ body and making Chris flush despite what they just did. “I do think that I will need some help in that department over the next few days.” He walks away and rounds a corner to the nearest turbolift. 

Chris closes the door and sighs. “Pike, Pike, Pike… Always the ones you can’t have.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So that happened.


End file.
